


Meditative Loss

by Bellemainec



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-24
Updated: 2010-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-12 20:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellemainec/pseuds/Bellemainec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Sarah reflects on her actions, loss and wishes as she tries to reconcile what happened with what she wished for...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meditative Loss

Disclaimer: Labyrinth, its characters and concepts are the copyrighted material of Jim Henson Productions and associated holders. This means no infringement, intends no harm, and is purely for the reading pleasure of Listians deprived of this ending by the film. It the end we wanted had been there, we would not need fanfic. Sorry soapbox put away now, no money will be made, be nice.

 

He will never know how near I was to yielding. To forgetting my purpose, ignoring my goal, surrendering my responsibility. Six small words uttered but a few moments before the end. Words I could never remember before that instant. I always hesitated, blindly fumbling for them, as they never stayed in my memory.

And as I stood there, with my heart screaming at me to take the crystal and accept both him and my dreams, my mind demanded I return with Toby. My conscience, my sense of duty, my practical, sensible and rational side strode over the tumultuous argument within me to pluck those six words from the past. All without my conscious volition.

It was the practical and sensible thing to do. I was responsible for Toby; I was required to return with him. My duty was to my brother's future happiness, I was responsible for the situation, and I could not allow him to become a goblin. That alone was my goal. I entered the Labyrinth chanting Toby's name like a mantra. To retrieve the child that was stolen...

Yet he wasn't stolen. Toby was taken from me at my request. I asked for the child to be taken. He took him. He was right about that. It was my fault, my request, my doing. The only way to make amends for my irresponsible actions. To retrieve Toby, that was my sole aim.

As I moved through the Labyrinth, I lost sight of that so many times. Not only during the times he tried to divert me, to distract me, but also when I was ostensibly committed to my path. I...I... I can find no other word for it. I enjoyed my journey. Yes there were times that I was terrified, angry, scared and in danger. I experienced all of those emotions, but with each obstacle I overcame, with each passing step, I grew more confident, more certain, more adventurous. It may not have been his intention, but with each danger averted, each threatening obstacle overcome I became more certain that I would complete the task, that I was in no real danger of being harmed. The arrogance of the young, their assurance in their own immortality. I felt it coursing through my veins. I could not be harmed, the very idea was absurd. I, Sarah Williams the valiant, was on a glorious quest to right the wrongs done to me and find my lost brother.

So arrogant. So single-minded. So blind. It was only later that I realised how and why I was still alive. How he had kept me safe. I was in no real danger from him. In my blind arrogance I did not see his efforts at protection, I believed that I was safe through nothing but my own efforts. He never directly harmed me. He terrified, manipulated and horrified me, but he never harmed me. When I returned, victory sweet upon my tongue, my lingering sadness at leaving my friends was alleviated by their appearance. I did not realise at first the source of the subtle disquiet within me. It took me months to process what had happened to me, to finally understand and even later accept why I felt the way I did. And still do.

I was unable to concentrate, to read, rehearse, paint, sing - I was incapable of wholeheartedly committing myself to a task. I blundered through my school work, forcing myself to read and work, scraping through on barely passing level assignments. My grades plummeted, but I scraped through, doing enough work to pass. I was distracted, uncertain, and jittery. I knew there was something missing, but could not define it. I felt incomplete.

I missed him. Silly, trite, stupid of me I know, but that was the truth. I missed him, even knowing that I was unlikely to hold any attraction for him. What would a silly schoolgirl have to offer a Goblin King? While we were in the Labyrinth, every new encounter spurred me on, encouraged and invigorated me. Each sudden appearance made me feel even more alive. Enemies or not, he completed me, and I was too blind to see it, to recognise it for what it truly was. When we returned, all I knew was that something was missing, something was absent. Subconsciously, I must have realised his absence unsettled me, that would account for my inability to concentrate.

It was not until Toby saw one of my sketches that I realised what was missing. Almost two years after our return, I had taken him to the park where we were lazing under a tree; he had dozed off after our picnic. I had sketched a few of the more active children, then grown bored and allowed my pencil to idly trace meaningless patterns. Toby had woken up and crawled closer to me, interested in the sketch. His brows had drawn together as he patted my drawing and announced, "Moon." I looked down presuming I had sketched stars and moons and found his image staring up at me, an expression of indescribable loss etched on his features.

I am no real artist; I only dabble and know my limitations. I was incapable of consciously producing that piece. Yet there it was, his image stared up at me and Toby was right. His hair had been the colour of moonlight. As I looked down at him, I finally realised why I was so restless. Despite the easy way he could infuriate me with no more than a casual comment, I had come to expect his presence. I mourned his absence. It was a very lowering thought. Somewhere along the line I had developed a crush on him, a crush that had developed into something deeper when we actually met. Feelings that I had buried beneath a facade of hate, contempt and disapproval to ensure that he had no way of discovering them. I buried them so deeply that I mistook them myself. I have no illusions about him. He can be cruel, hateful and downright impossible. If he had known of my feelings, he would have used them as a weapon against me. Of that I have no doubt.

Yet these feelings exist, and when I am feeling particularly masochistic, I remember the words I spoke before I asked that Toby be taken. In spinning the tale from the book to Toby I claimed that the Goblin King was in love with the girl. Somewhere, deep within my own heart, I wish that were true, I hope that somehow he shares my feelings. I know that I did not destroy him, my victory but banished him thus allowing my return with Toby. If I had not seen my comrades in my room that night, I would have wondered if I had done more than beat him. I would have imagined that I had destroyed him and the entire Labyrinth but I know that I did not. I might as well have, though, for surely I have ensured that there is no way we could ever be together, the past would always intrude upon any future we could possibly have, even in my wildest imagination. How could I trust him, and how could he accept me? By saving Toby, I have forever defined our relationship in terms of my defeating him. Perhaps it was self-preservation that hid my feelings for him. Could I have damned Toby to life as a goblin because I loved their King?

My life would have been completely different if I had not encountered him. Without the Labyrinth, my life would have been immeasurably poorer. He forced me to face my shortcomings, to overcome the spoilt brat essence that permeated my being. Looking back, I am surprised that he bothered to talk to me at all. If I had acted in a manner consistent to my previous behaviour, I would have taken the crystal the first time. I whined, I blamed others, I looked for fault in everyone but myself. As I journeyed through the Labyrinth, I grew up. I realised what I had done to Toby, how selfish I had been, and I knew that no matter what, Toby had to be returned, even at the cost of my dreams. Responsibility for my own actions, and the understanding that life is not fair - these concepts I came to recognise. I should pursue my dreams, but not at the cost of another. Toby must be saved.

I achieved that goal. Toby is growing into a beautiful boy; generous, happy, full of life and love. I have finished high school, my relationship with my father and stepmother is warmer than it was, but we are not close. I don't know what my future holds, it seems to stretch before me like an empty canvas and I have no idea what to place upon it. Actually, that is not true. I know what I long to place upon it, but know that it is impossible. Without him, I will remain incomplete. Thanks to him, I am the person I am today, but without him, I will never become the person I am meant to be. Who I long to be.

Sarah closed her journal and smoothed the corner of the leather cover. She had never spoken of him to anyone. After all, who would believe her? Outside, the rain lashed at her window, sending sparkling raindrops crashing against the glass. She brushed a tear from her cheek. It all seemed so hopeless. Refusing to give in to self-pity, Sarah placed her journal in its hiding place behind her bookcase and turned to find herself enveloped in an embrace of warm silk, velvet and lace. Burying her face against his shoulder, she sobbed. He held her close within his embrace.

Finally she looked up, the tears fresh on her eyelashes. Her face pale, she reached up to place a palm against his cheek. "You are really here?"

His own face solemn, he nodded. "I have always been with you Sarah. You just did not see it." He watched the tears spill from her eyes once more. "Do not cry, Sarah. You were not meant to see me. I took great care to ensure that your decision was yours alone. I had to know if you loved me Sarah. Me, not the King, not the source of your dreams. I love you Sarah. And finally, you have shown that you care for me."

"I more than care for you, Jareth. I love you. I was too blind to see it before." Reaching up she pulled his face towards her own, pressing an uncertain kiss onto his willing mouth. "You gave me so much, and I was so unwilling to believe. So quick to blame, to attack, to deny you."

"I am not perfect Sarah. I have told you before that I am cruel. While I may not be the prince of darkness that you so obviously feared at times, do not make me into a hero. I have my own darkness, Sarah."

"As do I. I am not blind to your faults Jareth, anymore than I imagine you are blind to mine. They are part of you, as they are part of me. I accept them Jareth, and love them because they make you who you are."

Sarah looked at him, noting the shock that had passed over his face. He clutched at her arms, forcing her back from him so that he could look fully into her face. He shook her slightly, his voice dark and his gaze intense. "Sarah. Be sure. Are you certain?"

Puzzled, she nodded. "Yes."

Jareth laughed and swept her off her feet, spinning her in dizzy circles until she begged him to stop. "My love, you don't know what you have done! The first time I saw you, I knew that you were my match. I watched you grow, saw the dreamer within you that could not be killed by the mundaneness of everyday life. Your escape into the theatre shielded your imagination. When you came to my Labyrinth you freed that part of you. You saw beyond what was there, you looked within! By seeing me as more than the villain, you have looked beyond what was shown to you. Sarah, my love, you have ensured that the Labyrinth will continue. Your belief has strengthened us all!"

Grinning, she ran a hand through his hair. "Really?"

"Yes." He spun her around once more for good measure.

"Then it hardly seems fair that I am forbidden to live there."

His hands stilled upon her hair. "Sarah?"

Suddenly unsure, she mumbled, "Or at least even visit. I miss you...it...them all so much." She looked up to see the joyful pride spread across his face, obliterating the last traces of arrogant superciliousness.

Cradling her face in his hands, he stared deeply into her eyes. Finding his answer in their depths, he clasped her right hand against his heart. "Sarah, my love, stand beside me as my Queen? You alone hold my heart, and I can not imagine my life without you at its centre."

Burying her fingers in his hair, she caressed the strands as she managed to force her words past tears of happiness, "Jareth, I love you. I do not want to be anywhere but at your side. If you will have me, I will stand beside you as Queen."

Pulling her into his embrace, Jareth kissed her, his lips warm against hers as they pledged their troth. Nothing now would part them, their hearts could no more be divided than the waves could leave the ocean. As they finally broke apart, Sarah realised that they were no longer in her room. Their surroundings had changed; they were once more in the crystalline bubble. Only this time, the crowds were not dancing; they were absent, leaving the enchanted room empty, except for themselves. Sarah looked up at Jareth, noting she was once more dressed in the extravagant white ball dress, just as he was once more clothed in beautiful blue satin and velvet. He reached up to place a circlet upon her curls, crystals and pearls intertwined in a stunning display that shimmered in the light. His hands dropped to her shoulders and his hair brushed her cheek as he whispered, "I will have you my Sarah. I most definitely will have you." He chuckled at the delicate wash of colour his words produced, then slipped an arm around her waist.

At his movement, the air glimmered with the delicate melodic notes of their love song. The song he had sung to her the time before, the song that she could never quite remember but would hum snatches of compulsively, trying to stir her memory. She placed her head on his shoulder as he whirled her through the measures of the dance, waltzing her in sweeping circles. His voice rang in her ears, the words etching themselves upon her heart. As he began the second chorus, she delighted him by singing with him, her soft soprano effortlessly blending with his own voice. He bent down to kiss her once more, the music weaving around them, as it would do for the rest of their lives. Until the world falls down, their magic would bind them together.

End.


End file.
